


Dyrwood Rains

by queen_scribbles



Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Gen, Past Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 21:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16920993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_scribbles/pseuds/queen_scribbles
Summary: Even the most faithful occasionally doubt





	Dyrwood Rains

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill 65. Another Roll For It, this time dealing with the Watcher’s past life. My elements were The Inquisitor, fire, and hope, but I worked a few extra in there, too. This is in Tavi’s canon, since I’ve touched on her past life before.

Whatever Kayna had been expecting of the Dyrwood, she was not prepared for all the mud. _Some_ mud, yes. Everywhere had _some_ mud, especially after it rained. But the Dyrwood had so much mud, she and her fellow missionaries were forced to walk lest the wagons get stuck.

Normally she wouldn’t have minded(she liked the smell of freshly wet earth), except it had been raining for a week solid, and even now maintained a steady drizzle. It was enough to dampen even her perpetual cheerfulness. Though that may have had as much to do with their chilly reception as the dismal weather.

The tribes of the Dyrwood were not interested in hearing about the true gods. At least, the three Kayna had visited so far weren’t. It puzzled her--the gods had done so much for kith, why _wouldn’t_ someone want to abandon false idols for the promise of protection and care? It was frustrating, to say the least. She rubbed her winged pendent and frowned.

“Kayna, we should probably stop soon.” Jory’s admonition broke through her contemplations.

She started slightly, dropping the necklace and pulling forward the hood of her cloak as she looked over at him. “You think so? I’d hoped to make more progress.”

“As did I,” Jory nodded grimly. “Alas, the gods had different plans. Damn this rain.” He glowered at the sky, his blue eyes dark and thunderous as the clouds above them. “We need to allow plenty of time for building a fire.”

She couldn’t really argue with that logic, so Kayna simply nodded and pulled her cloak more tightly around herself. “Fine. We’ll keep an eye out for a good spot to stop and make camp.”

The rest of their small band--eight in total, Thaos had allowed her--all nodded agreement and silence returned. Roark and Sylva picked up their pace to scout ahead. Otherwise the gloomy atmosphere was quite the mood-killer, so it was no wonder the lot of them kept to their thoughts. Hopefully they would all perk up around a campfire.

Kayna’s thoughts were interrupted again, this time by a pothole she didn’t notice until she stepped in it and sprawled headlong as a result. She sat up spitting mud and closer to cursing than she’d been in a long time. Her hood fell back as she glared up at the unrelenting sky, a fresh burst of rain plastering her hair to her face.

“ _Why?_ ” she demanded, giving the watery mud a petulant smack. “I’m here doing _your will,_ do you have to make it so _difficult_?!”

“Oh, come, sister.” Iovara’s tone was as warm and comforting as her hand as she reached to help Kayna out of the mud. “I’m sure this rain isn’t meant as an obstacle for us. It’s a boon for the farmers, and they need their crops far more than we need clear skies and dry clothes.”

“Speak for yourself,” Kayna muttered, shivering despite the time of year as her sopping dress and cloak clung to her tightly. She couldn’t completely fight a smile, however. This was very likely the gods’ blessing for the locals who needed it--a fact they would surely weave into their next round of sermons. Iovara had always been better at viewing things differently, and her perspective was a large part of why Kayna was so glad she was here.

“Poor little sister,” Iovara said, eyes sparkling. She unhooked Kayna’s cloak and replaced it with her own, heedless of the rain. “We’ll find somewhere to camp and get you dry.”

Part of her wanted to resent being babied on her own missionary expedition, but not enough to overrule the part that was miserable and dreading the likely blisters. Kayna smiled. “A good plan, lest your glorious leader catch cold and perish before winning a single convert to the faith.”

The two of them shared a laugh, broken off when Roark and Sylva returned from scouting ahead to announce there was very suitable cave not far from where they stood.

“There, see?” Iovara smiled. “They’re looking out for us, too.”

“Well, then, let’s make haste to avail ourselves of their provision,” Kayna said wryly.

-o- -o- -o-

The cave Roark and Syla had found was roomy without being too open, making it easy to warm after Jory got a fire going. Iovara helped Kayna change from wet clothes to dry and braid her hair back before the two of them joined the others by the fire.

“Am I doing something wrong?” Kayna murmured softly as her sisters deft hands wrangled her hair into order.

“What?” Iovara’s voice carried a frown of confusion, even if Kayna couldn’t see her face. “Thaos wouldn’t have chosen you for this outreach if he didn’t have faith in you. And he speaks for the gods, which means _they_ chose you. You are meant for this, sister.”

“Then why does no one listen?” Kayna said, fighting to keep the petulance out of her voice. She played with her necklace, pinching it between her fingers hard enough it left the imprint of wings when she let go. “Why does the very _weather_ seem intent on hindering us? I just thought... _hoped_ we’d see some impact by now.”

“Keep hope, Kayna,” Iovara said soothingly as she tied off the braid. “The weather doesn’t care what we do, and remember, the rain is good for farmers. You love to speak of the gods’ provision, use that as an example.” She turned Kayna to face her and gave a comforting smile. “Not all of us can be Thaos, little sister. You are doing the gods’ work and doing it well. People here are simply entrenched in their beliefs and fear change as all do. Give it time.” She squeezed Kayna’s hand. “I have faith in you. Now come on, your hands are like ice.”

“Thank you, Iovara,” Kayna said softly as she followed Iovara toward the fire. The rain and stubbornness of the locals had done their best to drown her hope, but her sister’s words had fanned it back to some semblance of life.

“You’re welcome,” Iovara replied, taking a seat next to Titus and pulling Kayna to sit on her other side.

“Could you sing for us, Kayna?” Jaine asked, ears twitching hopefully. “I know it’s been a long day, but you have such a pretty voice.”

It had been a long day and she was tired. She was also not immune to flattery.  “...Perhaps one hymn.” It _was_ gratifying the way they all leaned forward. Kayna cleared her throat and started to sing one of the older hymns, extolling the virtues and graces of Hylea. It was one of the first she had learned upon joining the faith and she found her conviction strengthening as she progressed through the verses.

From the knowing smile on Iovara’s face, she’d picked up on that. But she only nodded and hummed along. Graciously allowing Kayna to keep both her brief doubts and renewed hope to herself. By the time she was finished, the dry clothes and warm fire had done wonders for her mood and the words she sang had done wonders for her faith.

“I do love hearing you sing,” Nora commented as the last stanza faded into silence. “Your love for the gods is so clear, Kayna. I swear, you could sing people to faith in the span of three stanzas.”

“Well, I’ll try that with the next tribe, then,” Kayna chuckled. “Maybe I’ll have better luck. And thank you for the compliment. Now, we should all eat something and get some sleep. We have another long day ahead of us tomorrow.” She glanced toward the mouth of the cave. “Though hopefully more productive. And drier.”

There were scattered chuckles and she caught Titus and Jory smirking, before they all did as she suggested. Kayna herself drifted off to sleep with one hand clasped around her pendent and her outlook much more rosy than it had been earlier. After all, hope sprung eternal. Even in the Dyrwood rain.


End file.
